


Mom's Secret Ingredient

by iAteTheRamen



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bonding, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Romance, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 02:30:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19368220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iAteTheRamen/pseuds/iAteTheRamen
Summary: When Hunk gets homesick, he tries to recreate his mother’s banana cake, but it’s not at all turning out the way he planned. What is it that made his mom’s cooking so special? Is there anything Pidge can do to help?Set approx. the same time as S8E7.





	Mom's Secret Ingredient

**Author's Note:**

> Because this fic is set during the series' final season, please beware potential spoilers!

_Blegh._

Hunk couldn’t stop himself from spitting up the food into his napkin. Despite his best efforts, he didn’t understand what was going wrong. Banana cake, completely devoid of any alien ingredients, shouldn’t have been difficult to make. The three full baking pans sitting on his kitchen counter proved otherwise. If anyone took a taste from a pan at random, they would most likely comment on the tastiness of the dish. But it wasn’t good enough for Hunk.

He tried everything. Normally, he would cook by eyeballing his measurements, but it came out wrong. He then tried following the recipe to the T, modifying it by using alternate ingredients, and even checking the expiration dates on the packaging. The cakes just didn’t taste the way his mother used to make them.

It was the middle of the night, and all he wanted was to indulge himself in a comforting snack. He was in the middle of planning his fourth attempt  -- substituting papaya for banana -- when a _woosh_ from the door interrupted his concentration.

“You couldn’t sleep either, huh?” Pidge stepped into the kitchen and grabbed a plastic cup from the cabinet.

“Kinda,” Hunk said. He untied his apron and tossed it onto the counter. “As soon as I got into bed, a little homesickness hit me. I thought that whipping out one of my family recipes would help me feel better. It’s not really working the way I planned, though.” Defeated, he sank into a nearby chair. “What about you? What kept you up?”

The smaller paladin began filling her cup with a bit of water. “I actually went to bed a few hours ago, but then I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.” She finished the drink in a few gulps. “I was thinking of getting some work done, but figured that my mind needed just as much rest as my body. I started wandering around and heard something happening in the cafeteria. Now, here we are.” Pidge pointed at the counter, and with Hunk’s nod of approval, hopped up to sit on it.

“Well, at least your brain gets to take a break,” Hunk said. “I’m overworking mine just trying to figure this stuff out.”

“Hmm… Not that I doubt your culinary skills, but maybe you could use another set of eyes?” Pidge picked up a whisk and scrutinized it as if it were an ancient tool unearthed from an archaeological dig. “Whenever something isn’t working out for me, I always ask Matt or Dad for help.” She took a look around at the used bowls and utensils.

As far as Hunk knew, he had nothing to lose. He shrugged his shoulders and playfully smirked. “Sure, why not? Couldn’t hurt to try!”

In a surprisingly quick agreement for sleep-deprived teenagers, they set to work.

Pidge’s first thought was to wonder why Hunk didn’t just inject banana bits into a loaf of bread. She then assumed that there was no difference between banana bread and banana cake. At this point, Hunk decided to give her simpler tasks like mixing and measuring. It wouldn’t be until later when Pidge would admit that her only successful cooking experience amounted to boiling a pot of water.

They read the recipe together, both taking their time and keeping a serious attitude. Every action one person made was announced out loud for the other to verify that it was correct. Pidge was disappointed that she couldn’t be of more help, but the repeating motions of her tasks put her in a meditative state. Hunk was as present as ever, allowing himself to be vulnerable by again following the preparation instructions exactly as they were written.

More than two hours later, the frosted cake was chilling on a shelf in the walk-in refrigerator. It would take at least another half an hour for the frosting to set.

Hunk wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “Thanks for helping me out! I really -- geez, you look exhausted.”

The excitement from baking had finally subsided, and Pidge’s fatigue punctuated its presence with a yawn.

“You can head to bed if you want,” Hunk assured, “I’ll let you know how it turns out.”

In response, she hastily shook her head. “No, I’ll wait with you!” she yelped. “I’m a little worn down, but I wanna know how it tastes myself, while it’s still fresh. Besides, we still have to clean up this mess,” she said motioning to the counters. And so they did.

Their area of the IGF Atlas, aside from the idle beeping and occasional personnel walking through the hallways, was relatively still. The peacefulness was a stark contrast from the constant activity that they normally encountered when everyone else was awake. It was refreshing, to say the least.

“You know,” Pidge started, “I used to help my mom bake stuff when I was little, but I had no idea that it could be so physically taxing. And I know you’ve been doing food stuff since forever.” She began scraping off excess batter from the sides of a large mixing bowl. “What made you want to learn how to cook when you were so little?”

Hunk occupied himself with dividing his failed attempts into single-serving pieces for the crew. “I don’t know, there were a lot of reasons,” he shrugged. “You already know how much I love my family. When I was little, I wanted to get involved with the grown ups, and it just so happened that the thing they did most often was cook.”

“It’s important to you, and you never gave up on it,” Pidge mused. “If you were so invested in cooking, why didn’t you focus on becoming a chef? What made you go to the Garrison?”

The boy chuckled at her. “I was like anyone else living in the modern world -- tech was a part of everyday life. Being the curious guy I was, I wanted to learn more,” Hunk stated matter-of-factly. “It was fun to show kids my age that I was smart, and then I kind of just got addicted to building up the knowledge.” He paused to think as he carefully put the pieces of cake into sealed containers.

“As fun and challenging as engineering is, sometimes it can feel too constricting. Like when you add two and two, it _has_ to be four; there’s no other option,” he said as he put the containers away. “Cooking is my escape from that. I can treat recipes as guidelines instead of clear-cut rules. I’m allowed to tweak ingredients and do whatever I want. It’s a total game changer that lets me cater to specific tastes.” Hunk walked over and placed the now empty baking pans in the dishwasher. “I can make things the way people like.”

“The way people like, huh?” Pidge contemplated his words as she added cutlery to the load. “In that case,” she muttered, “what do _you_ like about your cooking?”

Hunk’s face grew warm, and he wasn’t sure why. “Me? Well...” He moved to sit at the nearest cafeteria table and rubbed his arm. “If I had to pick one thing, I’d say that I like when my cooking can make people feel like they’re home, wherever they are. As long as people are happy when they eat my food, then I can be happy too.”

Pidge plopped next to him and straddled the metal bench. “Yeah?”

“Yup, that’s why I wanted to make this cake.” Hunk placed his arms on the table and rested his head on top of them. “It reminds me a lot of the happy times I spent with my family. Gosh, I miss them so much, you have no idea--”

He immediately bit his tongue. The apology fumbled to escape his mouth as quickly as possible. “I’m so sorry, I forgot! I have no right to complain, you’ve been through so much with your family, even before we met, and I--”

“Hey, hey!” Pidge smiled and waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it! That’s all over now, so it’s okay.” She used the nail of her thumb to trace the bench’s tiny nooks. “It was a horrible thing to experience, not knowing where Matt and Dad were, or what could have happened to them. I missed them so much, and my mom…” Possessed with sudden conviction, she looked up and said, “But if I knew that this was where we’d end up, I wouldn’t change that experience for anything.” She returned her attention to the bench after giving him a firm nod. “I’m happy that all that bad stuff brought me here, to this very moment.”

Hunk lifted his head to look back at her. She was smiling.

“And besides,” she reminded with a nudge, “I couldn’t have found my family without the help of my new family.”

The two beamed and bumped fists.

Hunk couldn’t help himself from chuckling. “Very true."

“I mean, look at us,” Pidge motioned between them. “You and I can be really different at times, but at the core, we’re the same. I picked up an interest in tech for the same reason that you picked up cooking -- it made me feel connected to my family. My relationship with computers and machinery helped me get closer to my brother… It even helped me get closer to you…”

She wasn’t sure what made her do it, but Pidge closed her eyes, leaned forward, and rested her forehead on Hunk’s upper arm. “It’s been ages since we had a chance to talk like this. Outside of my family, you’ve always been the easiest person for me to talk to, even when we were Garrison newbies. I never really need to think about what to say or how I’m going to say it… It all might have just been a coincidence, but I’m glad engineering brought us together.”

“Me too,” he sighed serenely. “I always say that cooking brings people together, but technology was able to do that for the two of us.”

A few moments passed, with the pair simply enjoying each other’s company.

The older teen feared that his heart could be heard on the other side of the galaxy. He wondered if she could hear it too.

The other gently took off the glasses dangling from her ears and pocketed them. She could’ve fallen asleep that way, with how comfortable and safe it felt.

But neither of them were brave enough to move further or closer. They didn’t want it to end. This was a bubble of nirvana in the middle of a war.

Regrettably, they couldn’t stay that way forever. Pidge was the first to break the peace. “This… This was really nice.”

“Yeah…” Hunk nodded. “It felt good to make something with you, without any interruptions or disagreements.”

“Can’t help it,” she shrugged. “That’s just what happens when you work with someone who even _considers_ single-modulation.”

“Oh shut up!”

The pair had to quiet their laughter in consideration of those who were asleep, which accounted for most of the crew. Unfortunately, the giggles had already grabbed hold of them. The more they tried to stifle the noise, the harder it got. Inside the cafeteria, their tittering crescendoed into outrageous howling. For no reason, cackles spurred on even more cackles, and their hilarity bounced off of everything in the cafeteria, fully enveloping them. Bits of their mirth managed to escape the closed doors, but thankfully, at the volume of whispers.

Their laughter was disrupted by an abrupt beeping. The timer signaled that the cake was ready to be served. An ominous mood was suddenly born from the soft, high-pitched cries. The procession to the refrigerator and back again was precarious -- aside from their footsteps, silence thickened the air.

Carefully cutting a square piece for herself, Pidge sampled their creation. Much to Hunk’s dismay, she gagged. “ _DSH ISH DUHDSHISH!_ ”

“I knew it!” he cried out. The apron he had always pridefully adorned was taken off, crumpled up, and thrown to the floor. “I can’t do it! This is the one thing I miss most besides my family, and now it’s even worse than tasting different -- it tastes _disgusting_!”

Once Pidge’s aggressive coughing had been reduced to throat clearing, she grinned and cut out a slice five times the size of her original serving. “I guess that’s what I get for trying to talk and eat at the same time, but man oh man! I _said_ , this is _delicious_!” She took a few gulps of water to wash out any offending crumbs that remained. “Your mom is a genius, and you’re incredible! I can’t believe we made this together!”

Hunk raised his brow at the latest creation, unsure of whether or not to grant it his trust. Seeing Pidge unashamedly eating nearly a third of the original cake allowed him to give it a chance. When he took his first bite, Hunk could hear the sizzle of sapasui and the cacophony of his family’s laughter. Where he held his fork, he felt the smooth taro leaves used for Uncle Filo’s pork lau lau. The euphoria embraced him the way his mother did when he first cooked a meal without her help.

It tasted like home.

 

* * *

 

“Please tell me what it is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The next day, Hunk’s face was practically pressed to the screen of his tablet; his supplementary gesticulations were frantic. “C’mon mom, you can’t hold out on me forever. I know you! You must’ve purposely left something out, like a specific method or a secret ingredient, in case our family recipes fell into the wrong hands.” With his fingers, he drew an X over his chest. “I promise -- I won’t write it down, and I won’t tell anyone, but I need to know!”

“First of all,” she said, “those recipes are for food that’s meant to be shared, Hunk. And I swear, I didn’t leave anything out! In fact, I added as much detail as possible so that you could make it exactly as I do.” She frowned, unsure of how to remedy the issue.

Hunk only groaned in response. “Moooom, I told you. Following the recipe, including exact measurements, was one of the first things that I did. And it didn’t come out right at all!”

Hunk’s mother closed her eyes in thought, then jabbed her finger accusingly. “You didn’t accidentally confuse milliliters and liters again, did you?”

“No mom, I didn’t. I haven’t messed up like that since I was a kid!” Hunk sighed. “Besides, I couldn’t have made any mistakes this time because Pidge was here to help me. She double-checked everything.” He threw up his hands in defeat and slumped in his chair. “Whatever, maybe it was just a fluke. No one in the universe makes banana cake like you can.”

His mother let out a short giggle at the compliment. “Maybe so. I really do wish I could help you out, honey. I honestly haven’t made banana cake since the last time I saw you.”

“Wait, what!? How is that possible? You love baking it all the time. Why would you stop?”

“I don’t know! I never noticed.” She nonchalantly scratched her chin with a finger. “Most of the time, I just saved it for you because it felt easier to put together when I knew you’d be there to enjoy it... Cooking isn’t the same when you’re just doing it for yourself, you know? It made me feel better, knowing that the one I loved the most was smiling because of my labor.” Nostalgia washed over her. “I remember ever since you were little, and I’d be exhausted after coming home from work, but when I knew how happy the cake made you, it gave me some kind of hidden strength. I guess you could say that it was like your smiles helped my cooking taste better.” She flashed her son a grin. “Gosh, that reminds me, remember that one time when you -- Hunk wait, where are you going!?”

But Hunk had already bolted to find Pidge. He wondered if she liked cannolis.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was meant to be a 5-minute drabble inspired by a June 2019 prompt from /r/FanFiction. Instead, I got emotionally invested due to recent irl experiences. ;__;
> 
> I’d like to thank my little brother for keeping me company during most of my process; my boyfriend, for being the inspiration for almost all my stories; and you, the reader! Thank you for taking the time to read through this work! I truly appreciate it. If there’s anything you think I can do to improve, please feel free to let me know!


End file.
